Page 11 of Quasim: King Inferno

When I wasn’t in town, I made sure Havoc came over and was here when he knocked. I had been taking care of Elijah for a year, and nobody except Havoc knew.

Not even Blaze.

When I heard the shower, I slipped out the front door and made my way across the street. Elijah always left the door unlocked because he didn’t have a key. I entered the house right away and turned my nose up at the smell of cigarettes, ass, and moth balls. Smelled like niggas was in here opening their asses up.

The sound of the TV was coming from the living room, which had nothing more than a ratty ass couch that had seen better days and a few lawn chairs. The only thing worth something wasthe flatscreen TV that sat on a cheap TV stand that was one huff and puff away from falling onto the floor.

Weed trays, white residue, and needles littered the fake marble coffee table. It was crazy how reckless Thea was when it came to her son’s life. If Elijah wasn’t smart enough, he could fuck with any of this shit that was spread out on this table.

My slippers damn near stuck to the tiled floors because they were sticky. I never bothered to dump money into this house because Thea didn’t know how to keep a damn house clean. From the sticky floors to the holes in the wall going up the hall, I had been in trap houses that looked better.

When I made it to her bedroom door, I could hear loud snoring before I twisted the doorknob and opened the door. Thea was sprawled across the bed while the TV watched her.

She was awake.

Her eyes were glossy as she watched them report on the traffic heading over the George Washington bridge this morning. Her nose red from Elijah saving her fucking life this morning, and her blonde hair matted to her head.

She looked like a blonde Q-tip as she laid lifeless on the bed. I knew better, though, because without removing her eyes from the TV screen, I heard her soft voice.

“Have you come to yell at me this morning?” She weakly asked, as I took space in the doorway.

Had I not been listening I would have missed what she said because of the loud snores of her boyfriend. He was comfortable, tucked into the king-sized bed under blankets and with the fan facing him.

The bedroom was the only room that looked decent and comfortable. Meanwhile, Elijah’s room reminded me of a prison cell. Even prisoners had more in their cells than he had in his bedroom. There were no posters of his favorite action figures,toys everywhere, or a computer or gaming system with cases lying around.

It was a small twin sized bed that had a mismatched blanket, sheet, and pillow combo, the faint hint of piss and Irish Spring soap, because Elijah thought he could clean up his mess before his mother discovered it.

She never did.

Reason why he went to school smelling like piss and was being teased by his peers. His closet was bare and had the same clothes that I kept washed for him. Thea’s ass never bothered to wash his clothes, brush his hair, or take him to get a haircut.

“Thea, we spoke about if he put his hands on Elijah again. I told you that I would burn this bitch to the ground with you in it… right?” I walked over toward the side of the bed her boyfriend was on.

Thea leaned up in her bed, fear in her eyes as I punched the nigga in his chest, sending him flying up and finding himself in a coughing fit. He nearly coughed out a lung as he tried to catch his breath.

Thea crawled across the bed concerned for him. More concerned than she was about her son who he had abused after he saved her fucking life. “He has asthma,” she panicked, as she tossed herself across the bed and went to dig in the night table.

When she tossed herself back across the bed, I grabbed her wrist and snatched the inhaler from her. While homie was trying to catch his breath, desperate for the pump, I held it in my hand and pumped it into the air.

“Thirty pumps until this is finished.” I smirked as it counted down from the thirty, I had announced.

His eyes widened while he clutched his chest.

“He’s going to die… you don’t want him to die, right?” Thea was more alive than I had seen her in the past year.

Fourteen…

Thirteen…

Twelve…

I continued to press the inhaler as I watched the both of them. Him with his hand on his chest, and her holding onto him like he was a prized possession.

Six…

Five…

Four…

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